


When My Lucky Stars Align

by dizzy, savvymavvy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:32:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvymavvy/pseuds/savvymavvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris donates to a birthday fundraiser for his favorite celebrity... and wins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When My Lucky Stars Align

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to bbcott for beta reading!! You can find the fic on tumblr [here](http://alittledizzy.tumblr.com/post/79919028108/when-my-lucky-stars-align-chris-darren-au).

Chris makes the donation on a whim, when an email from the mailing list of a celebrity he's had more than a few masturbatory fantasies about catches his eye. Considering how much time he spent in them as a kid, watching his little sister live a chunk of her life in dull white rooms with dull white walls and nothing for entertainment, he's a sucker for anything to do with children's hospitals. 

He opens up a new tab and signed into his bank's website. The dwindling figures tell him that he can't afford much, but he still feels a little better about himself for the rest of the day after he makes that $20 donation. 

* 

The winning email notification comes a month later, long after Chris had forgotten about the entry his donation gained him. He doesn't even see the email at first. It goes to his spam folder and it's by random happenstance and a persistent mother that he finds it. 

"Did you find it? Nancy from the church youth group said she wanted to make sure you got that picture of all the kids with your books, since you were so nice to donate them in the first place. Now I know I spelled that email address in right, but Nancy is blind as a bat, you know." His mother chatters on at the other end of the phone call, not even aware that Chris isn't listening anymore. 

He's too busy staring at the message he's just opened in front of him. 

To: Chris Colfer  
From: Darren Criss  
Subject: Congratulations! You're the lucky winner of a date with Darren Criss! 

* 

His best friend Ashley shrieks when Chris tells her. 

"You gotta let me tell Robbo," she says. 

"Oh, god, no. He'd laugh - he always made fun of me for having such a crush on a tv star." Chris groans and squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. 

It's useless, though. Ashley already has her phone out texting. Chris once again regrets the fact that his most frequent and favored ex knew his best friend before he did. Instead of making things awkward and uncomfortable post-break up, it just made them too familiar. Ashley takes great pleasure out of being a gossipy go-between and keeping them up to date on each other. 

So Rob gets to find out about Chris's one-in-a-million contest win the same way Chris gets to find out that Rob is dating a Puerto Rican law student who does woodworking in his spare time and has mind blowing moves on the dance floor. Snarky and slightly bitter jokes about how Rob always goes for younger guys aside, Chris thinks Rob gets the better end of that indirect information exchange. 

Ashley finally puts her phone aside, and attempts to compose herself. "So when's the big day, when do you get the D?" 

"I hope you mean D as in platonic studio arranged date," Chris says. "Besides, he's as straight as they come, remember? He's got that girl on his arm at every event." 

"That don't mean a thing, baby boy," Ashley says. "How many Hollywood hunks end up admitting they take it up the butt years later? Come on now, don't be naive." 

Chris rolls his eyes. "It doesn't really matter anyway, does it? This isn't a real date, this is a publicity stunt for a fundraiser. Which is great. I'm sure I'll meet him at some pre-set location, we'll have a drink, he'll thank me for donating and take a picture, and then be escorted out by three body guards that could bench press me if I so much as looked at him in a way they deemed suggestive or inappropriate." 

* 

He’s told he can bring a guest, but he's not sure who to bring. 

Ashley can't get the time off work, or at least that's what she says. Chris is pretty sure that she turns down the offer just so he'll take Rob... and Rob might go, if Chris asks, but the idea of that - a vacation with him, staying in a hotel room together, he knows where that would end up. Good sex? Sure, but with that comes bad memories and they can't go down that road again. Chris won't fuck up what they have right now, a friendship that's just starting to be back on track. 

So he can't take Ashley and he won't ask Rob and suddenly Chris is left with the realization of exactly how small his social circle really is. His sister might enjoy it but when he asks her if she watches the show that Darren Criss is on, she really couldn't seem less interested. 

None of the other friends he's collecting while living in Chicago really seem like people he'd want to tell the story to. He's not ashamed of his particular entertainment related guilty pleasures, but he's not going to broadcast them in the workplace and work is the only other place he meets people. 

When he tells the woman arranging his flights that he'll just be going alone, she seems surprised and a little unsure of how to respond but she says she'll get back to him with an itinerary soon. 

*

The time off from work is easy enough to get. It's not like he's in any way irreplaceable at his job. He doesn't hate it at the newspaper nearly as much as he thought he would, even if most of his days are spent in the bowels of the archives fact checking. He likes it - the history of everything, the peace and quiet, the way he can just disappear into the music coming through his headphones and especially the way he can get all the work he needs to do done with hours to spare and work on his own writing. 

He does exactly the work he thinks is fair for what they pay him, and since he has no intention of spending the rest of his life at this job he doesn't feel too bad about it. He gets along with everyone, he works extra hours when they do actually need him to, and he doesn't cause his boss any problems. 

He also doesn't ask for much time off, either, so approval for the week is easy to seek and easy to get. He says he's heading back to California to visit family, and it's at least partly true. He'll spend his couple of days in Los Angeles cashing in on the prize win and then he'll rent a car and drive to Clovis for a few days. His mother is over the moon about it, and while Clovis isn't exactly the place he revisits in his dreams he is excited to see his sister again. 

Ashley drops him off at the airport with a hug, a slap to the ass and a stern warning, "Get it if it's within getting range." 

He groans and shoves her away and then calls her back to remind her for a fifth time how often and how much to feed his cat. 

* 

Chris spends the flight sat next to an old man who snores, which is a preferable outcome to someone who might want to talk the entire way. He gets a chapter done on his book, writes a weird wandering mental monologue on how it feels to visit a place he hasn't been since childhood, and then plays solitaire the rest of the time. 

* 

He lands at LAX and it feels like he's in another world. People bustle all around him, women and children and business men and families, bleached blonde barbies and balding men with bluetooth headsets. Chris walks slowly and takes it in, always liking the chance to get used to where he's at on his own time. 

He wonders what people see when they look at him, mid twenties but looking sixteen, hair unstyled and wearing a t-shirt and jeans. No reason to dress up when the only thing he expects to see throughout the day are the inside of the plane, the airport, and his own hotel room. He's not a sweatpants on the plane kind of guy, but the jeans are comfortable and the t-shirt is well worn. 

He finds his luggage, his lone suitcase with the blue and red patterned duct tape wrapped around the handle so he spots it in a sea of other identical black cases. He checks it over quickly to make sure nothing is busted or spilling out and then wheels it on along beside him, following signs to the car rental. 

* 

The hotel is nice, not the nicest but far from the kind of place he'd be renting on his own dime. He stretches out on a king sized bed and pops a chocolate into his mouth, reading the card from the prize fulfillment company. There's an envelope with a gift card inside and he sits up as he reads the note that explains that because he'd declined to bring along a second guest they’re offering him spending money for his stay in Los Angeles. 

Not that he wouldn't have enjoyed the company of his dear friends, but that really lets Chris know he made the right decision. 

Dinner is room service, a huge toppling hamburger and fries and the biggest slice of cheesecake he's ever seen. He shares company with his laptop, gets a chapter written on the book that's wasting away on his hard drive, and goes to bed early. 

Morning comes and he wakes without the aid of an alarm, which means half past ten and shockingly well rested. He's somehow hit a point in his life where a faint headache and the lingering pain in his back seems like a constant companion. 

He heads down to the hotel gym before he showers and feeds the burst of energy that the sleep and the change of scenery gives him, running until his lungs hurt and he's dripping sweat. It's a good feeling - a fresh exhaustion that he bounces back from after a quick shower and a fruit plate from the restaurant downstairs. 

They send a car for him at half past two. Chris hikes his laptop bag over his shoulder and tries to ignore the flurry of nerves in his gut when he thinks about exactly what he's on his way to do. 

* 

"I'm so sorry, but he's late," a cute young girl named Alice says, ducking into the little office that Chris is waiting around in. "He'll be here, though, I swear." 

"It's fine," Chris says, looking up from his phone and smiling at her. 

"Can I get you anything? We have a coffee shop in the building, or I could make some tea-" 

"Diet Coke?" Chris asks. 

Normally he's the type to decline politely but he's been waiting on the elusive Darren Criss for over an hour now, and he's thirsty. The long wait has helped him with the nerves, though. He's had an hour to sit and imagine all the ways he could make an idiot out of himself or all the ways Darren could disappoint him. 

He's under no illusions that the guy he moons over on a tv show is anything like the real person. He's also aware that Darren Criss is an insanely wealthy good looking human being who probably wants for nothing in life and clearly has no qualms about making a lowly contest winner fan wait at his whim. 

Alice brings his Diet Coke back and Chris thanks her, then returns to the game he's playing on his phone. 

* 

Chris hears Darren coming before he sees him. 

He hears a loud laugh echoing down the hallway and his skin prickles because he'd know that laugh anywhere.

"Down there?" Darren asks, voice coming closer and then - there he is, beaming and tousled and a little scruffy and oh dear jesus maybe that wait wasn't in vain after all. The schoolkid giddiness and pounding heart come rushing back, dignity left cowering and ignored in its wake. "Hey, man! You're Chris? I'm so sorry about the wait, I had this thing that ran long - I mean, no bullshit excuses, it was shitty of me, but I'll totally make it up to you. I'll buy you a drink - you're over 21, right?" 

It's not a question that Chris is unfamiliar with. "Twenty three," he says, and then awkwardly sticks his hand out. "Hi, I'm Chris." 

Darren grabs his hand but he doesn't shake it, he just uses it to tug Chris in for a hug. It's not a little hug, not a hesitant hug - it's a full on grab and embrace. 

(Darren Criss smells amazing. _So_ worth the wait.)

"Okay good, good, legal. I was afraid it would be some kid and - you know, that'd be awesome too, whoever won, but - we can have so much more fun this way." Darren finally steps back from the hug, grinning so big that his eyes crease. 

"So, you ready?" Darren claps his hands together and bounces on his feet. Up close he's more... real looking. Gorgeous, exuding charisma and energy, but a little more like just a real man. His skin is slightly shiny from sweat or oil, his hair is messed up, he has a spot on his forehead. Chris immediately likes him ten times more than he had before.

"Okay, so, look. This isn't actually our day, for one thing," Darren says. "I just wanted the chance to like, come by and meet you, say hey - they told me you didn't bring a guest and I thought it'd be a bummer if you were just hanging out by yourself." 

"Oh." Chris is faintly surprised. He expected that “day” was an exaggeration, that it sounded better on a blurb than dine and dash. "Well. Okay. So, tonight...?" 

"Well, tonight we can just, I don't know - I thought food or something? Hit a club if you want, if that's your thing, and if not... we can find something?" Darren says. "I want to hear about you, mostly." 

"Well, this will be a short evening then," Chris says. Darren laughs - full on, not just some polite chuckle. "You really don't have to-"

"I know," Darren interrupts. "Trust me, I know. They told me I could commit as much or as little as I wanted to. But you donated your money to something that meant so fucking much to me, and I don't get to thank everyone that did - not in person, so they know I mean it. I just get to thank you. So I have to _really_ make sure you know I mean it."

His voice is so earnest, hitting just the right chord in Chris. "Okay," Chris says, accepting that. But Darren is still staring at him with this big open eyes and Chris gives in to his constant urge to avoid exactly that kind of sincerity, since he’s so bad at himself. “I think you should know that I only donated twenty dollars, though.” 

Darren laughs. “Doesn’t even fucking matter. You donated. _That’s_ what matters. Now, do you like sushi? I know the most bomb place…”

* 

The sushi is delicious, and so is the beer Chris has on Darren's recommendation. Darren's obviously familiar with the place, recognized by the little man behind the counter and the girl refilling sauce bottles, but it's a casual kind of recognition - not a celebrity seeking kind. 

They're settled in a booth in the back corner of the little place. "So," Darren says, leaning forward. "Tell me about Chris Colfer." 

"There is really not that much to know about him," Chris says. "Born and raised in Clovis-" 

"That's uh, near Fresno?" Darren breaks in to ask. 

"Yep," Chris confirms. "Two parents, one sister, cats and dogs growing up... Clovis Community College for two years then I transferred to Northwestern. I got a degree in creative writing and I liked Chicago so I haven't left yet." 

"Northwestern, sweet. I went to University of Michigan, but I have a lot of buddies still in Chicago," Darren says. "So you write?"

Chris knows, of course. He's even seen a couple of their shows since he's been there. He doesn't want to tell Darren that, though. Despite the fact that he knows this is a dinner date between a celebrity and a benefactor of random chance, something in his mind still defaults to that weird sort of first meeting/first date setting. Don't reveal too much, pick your words carefully, don't come on too strong, be flattering but not obsessive. 

"I work for a publication right now. I'd love to make a living writing novels one day, but that's like lightning in a bottle, almost no one does it anymore. My job is okay. I do a lot of movie and music reviews, some theater stuff, and I'm in charge of the public events calendar and keeping it updated... is this putting you to sleep yet?" 

"No way, no, that's awesome. You're doing what you want to do, there's nothing lame about that." Darren pops another piece of sushi into his mouth. "So you looking to leave Chicago?" 

Chris shrugs. "I don't know. I never thought I'd make it as far as I have, so I haven't given a whole lot of thought about what comes next." 

"If you could do anything?" Darren asks. 

"Write novels. Act..." 

"What kind of novels?" 

"I don't know - there's just. People always ask that. I have a lot of stories in my head, they don't all fit into one genre. Love stories, stories about teenagers, fairy tales, horror stories..." 

"Oh, so you're multi-faceted, I see." Darren grins. "And you said act?" 

"I wanted to be an actor when I grew up. I did a little bit of community theater, drama club... but I didn't have time in college." Chris shrugs. 

"You don't sound that sad," Darren points out. 

"I think... I loved acting but I'm not sure I'd have wanted a career out of it anyway. I had an agent until I graduated high school but I never fit the cute kid stereotype and by the time I was a teenager - chubby and freckled just wasn't in demand, go figure." 

"Okay first of all, I bet you were a fucking adorable kid, and second of all, fuck Hollywood standards. I mean, you look pretty awesome now, I bet you could do okay." 

"Uh huh. Flaming homo best friends and stereotypes. No, thanks." A little bit of bitterness does slip past Chris's defenses on that one. 

He's surprised by how troubled Darren seems over the comment, though. "Shouldn't be like that. There are guys breaking the stereotypes, you know-" 

"None that look like me. None that sound like me. But it's fine. You're right, I'm not that sad over not being an actor. Writing is more of a passion." Chris begins to get uncomfortable with so much focus on him. No one ever stops and asks him about his life anymore. "What about you? You're acting now, but you were into music before, right?" 

"I resent that before. I'm still into music. I did a tour last year." 

"I know, I-" Waited in line for three hours and elbowed dozens of teenage girls to be near the front. "Think I heard something about that." 

"It was amazing. Being on stage, connecting with an audience. They did this whole meet and greet thing - fucking exhausting, I was so wiped by the end of it, and some of those fans were intense... but I'd do it again in a heartbeat." 

"That's good to hear," Chris says. "Are you putting out an album?" 

"At some point. There's so much red tape bullshit and just like, back and forth on what will play better and demographics and all these things… if it were me, I’d just camp out in someone’s basement studio for a week and bam, we’d be done.” Darren shrugs. “But it isn’t.” 

Chris is curious about that, but he isn’t sure if it’s really his place to ask. In fact, he’s pretty sure that it isn’t. Still, he can’t help but pry a little bit. “How much input do you have?” 

There’s obvious hesitation in Darren’s face. “To be honest, I don’t know yet. I feel like it's up to me to keep it about the art and it's so easy to get beat down about it, let other people call the shots. I’m just trying to keep my hand in it as much as I can." 

Darren's voice rises the more he talks until Chris would be nervously looking around to see if they're interrupting people if he were with anyone else. With Darren, though - something about the way Darren doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to anyone but Chris inspires Chris to do the same. 

* 

Chris doesn't mean to get drunk but he's really not the kind of guy who drinks a lot of very often and his hand keeps nervously reaching for the bottle until it's gone and replaced with another and that one's gone and the world is a little bit tilted sideways. 

It really hits him once he stands up after dinner. He wobbles a little on his feet and his hand flails out for the back of the chair. Darren grabs his arm. "Okay there?"

Chris blinks to put everything back in focus and tilted the _right_ direction before responding back to Darren. “Yeah, no of course, I’m fine.” There is no way Chris is admitting that a few beers is all he needs to put him firmly into inebriated territory. 

“Great!” Darren bounces onto the balls of his feet and grabs Chris by the arm, pulling him out of the sushi restaurant and towards the Tesla waiting for them. “If you’re feeling up for it I know this great little place, not far from here. They have live music, some drinking, dancing, nothing too much but its a nice scene. You want to…?”

Chris laughs, tongue loosened. “Is that what you’d be asking if a sixteen year old girl had won?” 

“Hey if a sixteen year old girl had won I’d show her an equally nice time, albeit not with any potentially illegal activities. You’re not sixteen, so it’s not illegal.” Darren grins and he looks like such a five year old to Chris, wanting to be praised and to show off. Chris laughs again and shakes his head. 

“I see how it is,” he admits, tongue pressed firmly into his cheek. “Well, I hate to disappoint you Mr. Criss but it is late, for me,” he adds. “Some of us aren’t working off of pacific time zone and aren’t used to staying up late and going to parties and being cool. Some of us need all the beauty sleep we can get, whereas others, like yourself, could go without sleeping and still be beautiful.” Chris stops himself, knowing that he has, perhaps said too much. “I also worry what I might be admitting if I drink anymore tonight. I have to retain some fun stories for tomorrow after all.” 

Darren laughs, loud and clear and a very _real_ sound. “Fuck, you are awesome. Like, if a sixteen year old kid won, it would have been great too, I mean - they’re good for the ego if nothing else. But shit. I lucked out. This is gonna be just as much fun for me.” 

“Um.” Chris’s face goes warm. “I have no idea what to say to that.” 

Darren pats his arm. “No need to say anything. Just sit there and look pretty.” 

Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he has no idea what to say to _that_ , either, so he opts to take Darren’s instruction instead. 

* 

Chris wakes up the next morning in his hotel room with a slight headache and a mouth that feels like cotton and tastes like something died in it. 

He grabs his phone and texts Ashley. _Accidentally got drunk in front of celebrity. Mission embarrass self horribly, officially a go._

He lays in bed and tries to wait until his body catches up with this whole _being awake_ thing before he goes and attempts a shower. His phone vibrates on his chest, a response back from Ashley. _How embarrassing? Did clothes come off? I need details Colfer._ Chris rolls his eyes and replies back to Ashley, informing her that _no, no clothes came off get your mind out of whatever gutter it stumbled into_ before he pushes himself out of bed. He stumbles his way towards the shower, his body groaning at each movement forward leaving Chris to wonder what exactly happened in the few periods where things got fuzzy. 

The warmth of the shower seems to clear his head up a bit and by the time he’s toweling his hair off, Chris is beginning to feel vaguely human if not a bit worse for the wear. He pockets his cell and his wallet and heads down to the breakfast buffet for a Diet Coke. Darren had said he wanted to start early this morning but Chris is unsure if he means actual early or Hollywood star early. Depending on which one there could easily be a four hour difference between the two. 

He grabs a Diet Coke from a vending machine and is all set to sit in a chair outside in a quiet, shaded area and get some writing done when his phone vibrates. 

“Hello?” Chris answers.

He’s sure it’ll be some kind of assistant or car service, but it isn’t - it’s Darren’s voice. “Hey! I’m like, ten minutes away? Just giving you a heads up. I meant to call earlier but I got distracted.” 

“No problem… I’m sitting in the lobby now, d-do I need anything? Um, b-besides money and my ID and my phone and…” Chris stops talking, realizing he’s rambling. 

“No, no, just your amazing self is all that is required.” Chris can practically see the cheesy grin that Darren no doubt has plastered across his face right now. He wants to roll his eyes at it but he can’t, it makes him excited just to think about it. 

“Well, I don’t know where I left my _amazing_ self. You might just be getting the slightly above par one today, sorry about that,” Chris replies back. He’s grateful, for the moment anyways, that his mouth replies before he has time to overthink what to say. 

“Well, bring whatever self you have. I’m sure it will be amazing no matter what,” Darren insists. “I’ll be there in just a few minutes now. I’ll pull up just outside the front door, okay?” 

“Sure, I’ll be there.” Chris ends the call and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He grabs his drink, finishing it up quickly before tossing it out on his way towards the front of the hotel. 

He doesn’t have to wait long before a sleek black car pulls up, stopping to idle right in front of him. The windows are tinted dark and he can’t see in but there is a familiar curly head of hair popping out from the driver’s side, teal Ray-Ban wayfarers perched on his face. 

“Wow,” Chris says. 

He’s already admired the car once, but it deserves admiring again. 

“Morning,” Darren says brightly. “Come on in, breakfast awaits. Have you eaten? If you have, sorry, but I am fucking _starving_.” 

“I haven’t,” Chris says. “Not really - food would be good.” 

“Great! I know this place that does an awesome breakfast burrito like you wouldn’t believe,” Darren says. He waits for Chris to get in and buckled up before he puts the car into gear and quickly pulls out of the hotel circle. 

“So, sleep well? Hotel alright? Everything go well last night after I dropped you off? No embarrassing drunk stories to relay?” Darren asks, looking over to Chris when they pull up to a red light. 

“No, no embarrassing stories here,” Chris assures him. He shifts his laptop bag slightly on his lap as there was that dream he had, but he is not counting that and he’s fairly positive that isn’t something Darren really wants shared. Out loud. 

“Shame.” Darren tsks and continues driving, the two of the falling into a companionable silence until Darren is pulling into a tiny parking space behind a beat up bright red trailer. “Come on, trust me.”

“Wow,” Chris says. “The media has drastically misrepresented what celebrity culture actually is.” 

Darren laughs. “Wait until you taste it, I swear.” 

Ten minutes later, Chris admits defeat. “This is actually amazing. How many of these do you think I can fit in my carry on to take back to Chicago?”

“Told you,” Darren gloats. “I woke up this morning was like, fuck, I know _exactly_ what he’s gonna need.” 

“Uh huh,” Chris says, dryly. “Are you sure you didn’t wake up this morning thinking this was exactly what you needed?”

Darren doesn’t bother denying it. “It’s cool, though. We got some old fashioned tourist shit coming up next. Like, Grauman’s, Amoeba, some shopping if you’re into that - Rodeo Drive, I could call up my stylist and see if she’s free if you want to get all decked out?” 

Chris is already shaking his head. “No, I don’t - no.” 

Darren just shrugs, taking it in stride. “Cool. Well, then - Venice Beach this afternoon?” 

An afternoon at the beach really doesn’t sound that appealing to Chris either but he isn’t sure how much say he has in this. He’s okay speaking up against shopping - he doesn’t have the money for that either way. But the beach… well, he can deal with it for a few hours. 

“Well come on,” Darren says, slapping Chris’ thigh. “We don’t want to waste time!” He urges Chris to stand before tossing their trash into a nearby bin and then shepherding him towards his car. “Grauman’s I think first. Actually, I never even asked, you been to LA before?” 

“No, no I haven’t.” Chris buckles himself in and places his hands together in his lap. “This is an all new experience for me.” 

“Great,” Darren shoots Chris a huge grin and winks at him from behind teal sunglasses before throwing the car into gear. “I’ll be sure to take the scenic route then.” Darren takes his time, going through twisting and winding roads to give Chris a decent view of the city. It’s sprawling and large, cars and buildings and people everywhere and despite having a few things in common with his own beloved Chicago, it is anything but the same. 

“I have a folder of CD’s in the back seat there by the way,” Darren says. He looks absently out his driver window before changing lanes quickly. “Feel free to go through it and find something to listen to. I’ve got all kinds of stuff.” 

The curiosity to dig through Darren’s music collection is more than Chris can manage (or want to manage). He grabs for it and begins to leaf through page after page of CD’s. “I can’t believe you still have one of these,” Chris admits, turning another page to see another group of CD’s. 

“Can’t believe I have what?” 

“CDs,” Chris says, gesturing down to the book. “I mean don’t you have an iPhone connection in here somewhere? I’d assume you’d be streaming something to your high tech radio.” 

“Oh,” Darren chuckles to himself and shrugs. “I dunno. I like the nostalgia of it. You lose something in just streaming everything from your phone. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love to be able to have my music with me wherever but. I like the CDs.” 

Chris can appreciate his answer and nods to himself, looking back down. All the CDs are categorized in alphabetical order with corresponding album booklet tucked in behind each disc. It’s all been painfully, painstakingly done and Chris can’t even understand why this, of all things, makes his chest twinge. He flips another page and just laughs at the CD he comes across. “Butthole Surfers? Really? Still?” He slips the disc out and into the CD player in the car. 

“Hey, don’t knock the surfers,” Darren protests. He turns the music up and it blares through the speakers as he signals and takes an exit off the highway. 

*

Chris is having fun. 

Really - it’s fun. Walking up and down looking at handprints and names, watching people stop and whisper about Darren, watching people approach Darren, holding the camera when people want photos with Darren… 

… actually it’s kind of boring. 

Darren keeps looking over at him and mouthing apologies. As soon as he gets a break in pre-teen admirers he walks back over to Chris. “So, um, I don’t want to cut your sightseeing short, but-” 

“Can we get out of here?” Chris blurts out. 

Darren looks relieved, but he doesn’t say much until they’re back to the parking garage. “Sorry, man. I forgot what it’s like - I mean, people are pretty chill most places but then you get somewhere with mostly tourists and it’s like a madhouse. I wasn’t even thinking.” 

“It’s fine,” Chris says. “How about - um, record store now?” 

Darren’s face lights up. “Yeah! Love that place.” 

Chris figures he would. He doesn’t like to think of himself in the stalker-fan mentality but, truth be told, there is a lot about Darren Criss he already knows and his love of music is one of them. Darren keeps up a steady stream of chatter in the drive over and Chris makes sure to agree and make other appropriate noises in the right places. it isn’t that he isn’t listening, he just likes to be able to take it all in. He wants to be able to commit this to memory, this entire experience and right now it is just nice to let Darren talk and the words wash over him. 

Amoeba Records isn’t what Chris thought it was going to be. He isn’t quite sure what he expected but the outside of it looks like a 1970’s throwback and the building itself is dwarfed in size by all of its high-rising neighbors. He looks questioningly at the outside as Darren practically bounces his way through the door. Inside it is just a cavernous maze of row after row of albums, stacked against each other one after another. It’s almost dizzying the amount of music in the store. Darren, however, is babbling again at the mouth, acting like a kid in a candy store as he immediately begins flipping through covers. 

“I love this place,” he says, digging a cover out and looking it over. “There’s something about vinyl it just, it sounds so much _better_.” 

Chris cracks a grin and laughs, Darren shooting him a hurt look. “No, sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you I was just, your enthusiasm. It’s actually, really nice,” Chris admits. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as Darren cocks his head and just stares back at him and now Chris is beginning to feel a bit self conscious but he already started digging this hole so he might as well keep going. “People don’t get that excited about things anymore. It’s really nice to see someone that is just really, honestly excited about something they love.” 

Chris offers a half hearted shrug as he trails off, not knowing how else to explain it. 

He is surprised when Darren reaches over and bodily _grabs_ Chris, hauling him into the closest, tightest hug he’s ever experienced. They stand there, Darren actually holding on to him for a good minute before he releases Chris to stand on his own again. “That was really nice man. And I know what you mean. People, especially people here, they get jaded or think they have to be too cool for everything. Can’t like something too much, can’t like someone too much, then people will know. They’ll know you’re not cool and then where will you be? Nah man. Life’s too short. When you love something, someone, love it completely. Don’t let people bullshit you into being guilty over something you enjoy. Own it and love it.” 

Chris blinks, rendered speechless. “Would… You like a hand down off of your soapbox Mr. Criss?” He finally asks, offering a hand out to him. 

“Jerk,” Darren says affectionately, smacking him in the arm and smiling widely back at him. “I give you an impassioned speech about being true to yourself and your passions and you give me, what? Insults?” 

“Hey, everyone has to stick with what they’re good at,” Chris admits with another shrug and a huge grin. “Besides, I gave you that cheesy compliment before.” 

Darren shakes his head, his smile going softer. “Wasn’t cheesy,” he says, voice quiet. “Was nice.”

“Good,” Chris says, and he manages to stare at Darren with a smile on his face for a few more seconds before the nerves come sweeping back in. 

* 

Somehow it’s different after that. Good different, a little more familiar and… intimate. 

“So,” Darren says, as they wander out of the store. They both have a big bag in hand with their newly found and paid for musical treasures. “You hungry? We can hit something along Venice Beach, if you want?” 

“Sure,” Chris says, but something in his voice must give him away. 

“Or… um. We could come up with a plan B. Maybe… I don’t know, man, what do you like to do? Anywhere you want to go? I didn’t even ask, I’m fucking rude, sorry.” Darren reaches past Chris to open his car door for him. 

Chris waits until they’re both inside the car to answer. “I’ve never been here before, so I don’t really know what I’d like to do. But… food would be good.” 

“Okay so food, yes but Venice Beach, no.” Darren looks Chris up and down, making Chris unconsciously sit up straighter. Darren finally says, “I think I know what you’d like. Do you have any food preferences?” 

“No, I’ll eat just about anything, I’m easy.” Chris pauses and his eyes widen slightly. “I mean, I’m easy to please, I mean--fuck--” Chris knows his cheeks are red, so very red and that even with his sunglasses on again Darren is going to be able to tell. 

But Darren just laughs. “Good to know,” he says cheerfully, looking back at Chris and winking again. Chris doesn’t like it, all this winking Darren is doing. It feels almost flirtatious which puts Chris on wrong footing because it can’t be. There is no way Darren means for it to come across how it seems, he’s just a naturally vibrant and flirtatious kind of guy after all, and doesn’t know what it does to Chris’ insides when he teases like that. 

Chris swallows and sits still in his seat, not sure what else to do. 

Darren drives down a few blocks, taking some turns until he ends up in an interesting section of town. It isn’t the kind of area that Chris would expect a big Hollywood star to hang out in (or probably one where he would leave a big Hollywood star’s car at) but Darren is once again out and bouncing forward, opening Chris’ door for him and ushering him into a tiny, hole in the wall diner. 

“Trust me,” Darren insists, swiping two menus from the hostess stand and seating both of them towards the back. “I haven’t led you wrong yet have I?”

“Well, you did ply me with an unsafe amount of alcohol last night,” Chris points out, looking over his menu. 

“I said wrong, not unsafe. It was fun though, right?” Darren asks. 

“It was,” Chris admits. “I don’t just… relax like that a lot.” 

“Why not?” Darren looks at him over the menu that he hasn’t even opened yet. 

It’s a simple question, but Chris doesn’t really have a ready answer. He fumbles, looks down and shrugs, and finally says, “I just have too much to do.” 

“Like, work, or what?” Darren pushes a little more. 

“Work, and… I don’t know. I just don’t - god, this sounds pathetic, I’m sorry. I just don’t get out a lot,” Chris shrugs. “I have a few friends, but… since I broke up with my last boyfriend… well, I realized most of the friends I had in Chicago were _his_ friends…” 

“Ouch,” Darren says, wincing sympathetically. “I know how that goes.” 

Chris really doubts that Darren does. He doubts Darren has ever gone five minutes in his life feeling like he didn’t have a friend. But he still appreciates the gesture, so he gives Darren a tight smile. “Thanks.” 

There’s a brief pause where the waitress comes over. Chris skims the menu quickly while Darren orders from memory. 

When she walks away Darren says, “Hey, I’ve got a ton of friends in Chicago, I make it out for their projects as often as I can. We should hang next time I’m there.” 

Chris laughs. “What? Are you serious?” 

“Yeah,” Darren says, shrugging. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because I’m a fan of yours that you’ve known for a combined six hours and know absolutely nothing about,” Chris says. 

“They did a background check on you, I know you’re not psycho or anything,” Darren laughs. 

“... really? Of course. Of course they did,” Chris says, rolling his eyes. “Well, good, so you know everything about me.” 

“Well, I don’t. But my people do.” Darren uses air quotes around _people_. “I’m a lazy asshole, I let other people handle all that shit. If you hadn’t checked out they’d have just picked another random winner.” 

“I see. Well, good to know that’s how that works. You’re stripping away the mystery of Hollywood step by step,” Chris says. 

“Please, we haven’t even _started_ on the real shit.” Darren leans in close. “I mean, if you want to know who is banging who or which ones are total assholes, we’ll be here all day.” 

“Now that is tempting,” Chris admits. “But I watch entirely too much television. I need a bubble of oblivion or else I’ll end up hating characters for things the actors did.” 

“Fair enough.” Darren sits back again and goes back to eating. “So you watch a lot of tv? Like what? Besides Glee, of course.” 

“A lot of reality shows. Downton Abbey - oh my god, have you seen it? It’s _amazing_ ,” Chris says, fully aware that he’s gushing and not really caring. 

“That’s the one with McGonagall in it, right? I’ve heard of it.” Darren talks around a bite. “Usually when I have down time I’m either jamming with my friends or we just end up watching old cartoons.” 

“Well, add Downton Abbey to your list,” Chris insists. “It’s so good.” 

Darren is grinning at him. “Will do.” 

The conversation weaves around bites of food, through topics of television and childhood nostalgia and stories of misspent youth until their plates are empty and they’ve had multiple refills on their drinks and they realize they’ve been sitting for almost two hours. 

“I guess we should split,” Darren says. “We’re getting the stink eye from the bus boy.” 

Chris follows him out. “So, what now?” 

"I have an idea," Darren announces, stopping by his car. He leans with his back to the driver's side door and his hands flat against the surface of it behind him. "Do you trust me?” 

“Well, everyone knows where I am, so if my body never shows up you’ll definitely be the first one implicated. Though, you’re kind of rich and famous, so you might be able to buy your way out of an investigation…” Chris muses. “I mean, being hacked into a hundred pieces by a celebrity isn’t how I wanted to become a household name but I guess it’s more than most people get.” 

“Okay well that’s a disturbingly well thought out plan you have there,” Darren says. 

Chris shrugs. “It was a long flight over.”

“And you spent it imagining that I would murder you?” Darren is laughing, thankfully. Chris knows any number of other people would just be looking for the exit. 

But Darren keeps surprising him like that. The music, the passion, the sincerity… the humor. For the first time in the last very surreal twenty four hours Chris feels his little crush on Darren surge back to the forefront. 

That little crush, only different, because it’s impossible to temper it with the usual disclaimer of _he’s just a celebrity_ when it doesn’t really feel like _just a celebrity_. It feels like Darren - a living breathing person, sitting and smiling across the table at him. 

*

here

Chris isn’t really wearing the right shoes for a hike, but after how enthusiastic Darren is about it Chris hadn’t really been able to figure out how to tell him that he’d rather not. 

Now he’s glad he hadn’t. It’s not as strenuous as he’d feared, and his feet seem to be doing fine. Even if he does go home with blisters, it’s worth it for the view. 

He tells Darren as much. It seems like a good move, because Darren gives him the happiest kind of look, almost proud. “Yeah, I love it up here. I come to just, you know, get away from all the shit and refocus sometimes.” 

“Do you need to do that a lot?” Chris asks. 

Darren shrugs. “Sometimes? I mean, I get most of my issues out through music. It’s cliche as fuck, but it’s the truth. Playing just makes me feel cleansed. But sometimes, when music is like, it’s all mixed up with the stress? Sometimes I just want to - disappear for a while.” 

Chris can understand that, in a distant sort of way. “I feel like my whole life is disappearing. What I want sometimes is just to be seen.” 

Darren looks over at him, eyebrows raised. 

“Too deep?” Chris asks, wincing. “Sorry. Writer’s melodramatic streak.” 

“No, man. Not too deep at all,” Darren says. He steps in closer, shoulder brushing Chris’s. “I’m just wondering how the fuck anyone could not _see_ you.”

Chris looks back at him, surprised. He doesn’t really know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t say anything and keeps walking. 

They aren’t the only ones along the path but the more the light bleeds from the sky the less company they have. 

When Darren suggests they sit for a break, Chris is grateful. He’s never been in better shape in his life, but it’s relative. He’s still not the type who goes hiking for miles every day just for the hell of it. 

He might, though, if he lived somewhere with a view like this. 

“I should take you out to dinner,” Darren says, interrupting Chris’s little internal monologue. 

“I think it’s a little past time for dinner.” Chris sits, enjoying the way the air is crisper here but still not the biting chill he’d expect if he were back in Chicago. “Besides, you bought me dinner last night. And breakfast and lunch today.”

Darren shakes his head. "No, man. Those were like - because you won the contest and were cool about it and all and didn't like, burst into tears." 

"Okay..." Chris says slowly. He's still confused. 

"I mean, you know. Let me _take you out_." Darren stresses it with the kind of significance that Chris absolutely knows he must be misinterpreting. His voice goes weird, a little choked and maybe even kind of terrified when he says, “Unless I’m just way off base with this whole vibe.” 

Oh. Oh, no. Chris isn’t misreading at all. 

His mouth drops open a fraction and he has to make himself close it and swallow hard before he says, “You’re not off base.” 

Darren’s grin is instant and full of happy relief. “Good. Then you won’t freak when I do this.” 

He cups Chris’s cheek, fingers splaying over his jaw and stretching to under his ear, as his mouth presses to Chris’s. 

It’s been a while since Chris has really been kissed - months and months since it’s been one that counted, one that meant anything. He’d be nervous if his mind weren’t racing with an overload of sensation. The lack of ability to process quickly is probably more of a blessing than a curse. 

It’s Darren that breaks the kiss. “As much as I wanna keep on with this, uh, probably shouldn’t where people with cameras could be nearby. Celebrity bullshit, you know.” 

Chris jerks back as if Darren’s just announced there are a dozen paparazzi around them. 

“Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean - 

“I thought you had a girlfriend?” Chris blurts out at the same time. 

Darren looks momentarily taken aback, and then he just laughs. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“But-” Chris is confused. 

“Chris.” Darren leans in, keeping almost uncomfortably direct eye contact. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“Oh.” Chris licks his lips. “Okay.” 

“Now.” Darren puts a little more space between them again. “You want to go find somewhere more private?” 

Chris has no idea if Darren means to talk or kiss some more or what, but he finds himself not overly concerned with which option it is. “Yes,” falls from his lips as he pushes himself to his feet. 

* 

“That was amazing,” Chris says as they leave the observatory. 

It’s not exactly the private scenario he’d been imagining, but he’s buzzing with the new experience. 

“Yeah? I thought you’d like that,” Darren agrees, nodding along with Chris’ enthusiasm. He likes planetariums, loves the movies and the views of the galaxy they can bring and being able to slip into Griffith unannounced and unacknowledged is a special pleasure. “So, about earlier, when I asked if you wanted to go somewhere more private…” 

“Yeah?” Chris looks at Darren, waiting for him to continue. 

Darren fidgets where he is standing. “So today was about you winning the contest, you know? I spent the day showing you around, and - you had fun, right?” 

“I had a lot of fun.” The disappointment begins to sink in as Chris realizes that Darren is probably just trying to politely extract himself from the situation. He hasn’t even mentioned the kiss again… 

“But that’s done now. So, I was thinking, you’re in town for another day, right?” 

Chris nods cautiously. “I fly out day after tomorrow.” 

“Perfect.” Darren beams at him. “So there’s this Italian place I know. They have a great menu but there is this private room they have… If you’d like to grab some dinner with me tomorrow night and maybe talk?” 

“Haven’t we been talking?” Chris asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Darren shrugs with one shoulder but smiles at him. “Perhaps but I’d like to talk a bit more candidly with you. If you want that?” 

Chris blinks and it hits him what Darren is saying, and that maybe Darren isn’t actually trying to get out of anything. Maybe he’s trying to get _into_ something. 

“Oh.” Chris blushes slightly before breaking into a shy smile. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” 

“Good. Good.” Darren rubs his hands together. “So, I should get you back home now.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Chris is stunned. He needs a little time to make sure this isn’t some elaborate fantasy, but he’s pretty sure Darren Criss just asked him out on a date - an actual one. 

Darren offers Chris his arm. “Shall we then?”

* 

Chris wakes up the next morning positive that it’s all some elaborate dream. He’ll open his eyes and be back in his apartment in Chicago - or maybe not, maybe the dream goes deeper than that. Maybe escaping his home town is a dream, too, and he’ll wake up back in his bed in Clovis, California. 

And then -- 

Bright, painful sunlight right in his eyes and a knock on his door, an accented voice calling out. He manages to sit upright before she comes in entirely and says, “No - thank you, but no,” in a scratchy voice. 

At least the getting out of Clovis isn’t a dream. He’s in the hotel in LA, it is morning and… so far so good on this being real life and not a dream. It takes him time to get up and roll his body off of the bed and towards the shower. Everything aches and is stiff as he takes his time turning on the hot water and showering. 

By the time he steps out he’s feeling better. His body is moving at a functional speed and nothing hurts too much when he bends over to grab clothes from his suitcase. Getting dressed, he hears his phone chirp again from somewhere behind him and he grabs it quickly, a text from Darren with a picture of a croissant and two coffees that says “good morning!” and suddenly the morning does look a lot brighter. 

When he gets down to the lobby, Darren is waiting with the promised coffee and pastry and gently maneuvers him over to a quiet spot with two chairs, out of the way of the check-in counter. “Breakfast is served,” Darren says grandly, handing the coffee cup over. 

Chris really isn’t a coffee drinker, he’s really not a much of anything but Diet Coke drinker, but he doesn’t say anything and sips at the warm beverage. He eyes the pastry before Darren hands it over, tearing into it and then giggling gleefully when he realizes the inside is filled with chocolate cream and that is certainly the way to win him over, by surprise chocolate pastries. 

Chris is feeling a bit shy. He knows last night wasn’t a dream but he still hasn’t figured out a way to verify that Darren hasn’t lost his mind. He’s trying to pick the right way to ask when Darren’s foot nudges against his own under the table and Darren is looking up at him underneath ridiculously long eyelashes and Chris realizes he has forgotten how to breathe. 

“I thought you said dinner?” Chris finally says, finding his voice. 

Darren shrugs. “Yeah, but then I realized you’re only here for a another - what, day? So if I wanted the chance to woo you in any kind of proper fashion I needed to act quickly.” 

Chris almost chokes on the coffee. “Woo?” 

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to be wooed. In which case, speak up now or forever hold your peace.” Darren’s voice is light but he leans forward in the chair, hands clasped, and Chris can tell from his posture and the look in his eye that the question is actually a serious one. 

“Isn’t this really stupid of you?” Chris asks, cursing his own occasional lack of filter but also desperately curious. “Hitting on a fan?” 

“I’m not hitting on you, I’m wooing you, totally different. Like, way classier.” Darren corrects him. “But - I mean. I guess, yeah, if you want to just bust my shit all up I’m giving you plenty of material to work with here. But I don’t know, I just… I like you. I get stupid when I like someone, and it’s been a while since I felt like that.” 

“Even though I’m only here for another day?” Chris asks. 

Darren shrugs. “What was it a wise old sensei once said? YOLO?” 

Chris sits back, snorting. “Okay, your style of wooing is going to need some work if that’s your starting bid.” 

“Shit, I thought we were in a time out!” Darren juts out his lower lip in a pout. He reaches out and grabs Chris’s hand. “Come on. I cleared my whole day for this. I was a total diva, I made them rearrange everything. My publicist called me a brat. Don’t make that in vain.”

Chris’ stomach swoops pleasantly. He’s not entirely sure what either of them are doing right now, but he has a feeling this will be a day he won’t forget anytime soon. 

* 

As it turns out, his style of wooing is actually kind of perfect. 

They drive an hour outside of Los Angeles, talking the entire time. It takes Chris almost forty five minutes to convince Darren to tell him where they’re actually going. 

“To the beach. Well, a private beach, a friend of mine owns this place… he let me have it for the day.” Darren grins over at Chris proudly. “I can’t really take you out out, but… look, I know you said you weren’t a beach person yesterday, so if you totally hate it we can head back home, but I think you’ll love it.” 

“No, it sounds perfect,” Chris admits. “I’m not a crowded beach person, but a nice secluded one…” 

“We could even go for a swim,” Darren suggests.

“I didn’t bring anything to swim in.” Chris catches the look on Darren’s face. “Wait, was this just an excuse to get my clothes off?” 

Darren laughs, looking over at him and winking. “Maybe it’s an excuse to get mine off so I can show off for you?” 

“Oh. Well, then.” It’s a good thing they’re in the car and not walking, because that’s the kind of comment that would have made Chris stumble. “Will you recreate that beach photoshoot for me?”

Darren groans. “That fucking thing, that’s gonna haunt me forever.” 

“... I’m not complaining about it.” Chris is a little rusty with the whole flirting game, at least with someone new, but his efforts are rewarded with a big smile from Darren. 

“Anyway, we can stop in somewhere and get you fixed up if you want something to wear,” Darren says. 

Chris tries to say no, but Darren insists and by the time they’re pulling up in front of a little surf shop Chris realizes no amount of protesting will really stop Darren. 

“No wonder you get roles,” Chris grumbles good naturedly. “Casting directors probably try to tell you no and you just pretend like they said yes and show up anyway. Then you give them those big eyes and they can’t send you home.” 

“Oh, totally. It’s gotten me jobs, free meals, laid…” Darren holds the door open. 

Chris laughs, a burst of noise that makes a woman entering the shop in front of them jump and turn her head. He quiets himself sheepishly. “You’re awful!” 

“No, I’m awesome,” Darren says, grinning. 

*

“I don’t think I’ve ever walked into a store only needing one thing and walked back out with this much stuff,” Chris admits, his arms heavy with two bags. 

Darren just shrugs. “I have the money. I like spending it on fun stuff.” 

Chris gives him a look, but he doesn’t really feel like he knows Darren well enough to argue the lack of wisdom in that. 

Besides, while it could feed Chris for a week - a hundred bucks is probably small change to Darren. They have beach towels, swim trunks, sunscreen, snorkels, and a fancy camera that records footage underwater, plus lunch from a deli beside the surf shop. 

The beach house is only another fifteen minutes. It’s small - two bedrooms and a sprawling living room kitchen/combo, with massive patio doors that open onto a view Chris would die to wake up to everyday, beach person or not. 

“When you decide to woo, you really decide to woo,” Chris says approvingly, looking around the house. 

“So, this works for you?” asks Darren excitedly. His smile grows as Chris sets the bags down on a nearby couch. Chris flushes and looks past Darren, moving over to the large patio doors and the view of the beach. 

“It looks amazing here,” Chris says, clearly changing the subject. 

“Part of why I love coming out here with my friend,” Darren agrees, moving to stand right along side Chris. “To get away from the crazy hustle and bustle in LA, to get out and get away and just be able to be with myself and with nature.” 

“You come out here to commune with nature?” Chris raises an eyebrow as he looks over at Darren. 

“What?” 

Chris shakes his head, not able to stop himself from just laughing at how accurate it feels. “You hippie.” 

“Yes well.” Darren turns and grabs at their bags, finding the one with his swim trunks in it and jerking them out. “Last one to commune with nature is a rotten egg!” He sticks his tongue out at Chris and hurries into a nearby bathroom to change. 

“Hey-- what--?” Chris shouts, turning and watching Darren run off. “What are you a five year old hippie?” 

“Five and a half!” Comes Darrens muffled shout from behind the thick wooden bathroom door. 

*

The water is warm and inviting and Chris thinks he might actually never want to leave. 

It doesn’t help that every time he looks up, Darren is only a few feet away, shirtless and tanned and dripping. 

“So does the chest waxing hurt?” Chris asks, lazily floating on his back with his head turned toward Darren. 

Darren laughs. “Uh, it’s not exactly fun. Wouldn’t recommend it. The biggest pain in the ass is when it starts growing back in and it’s all itchy and weird and I’ve got like, chest stubble.”

Chris screws his face up, trying to imagine that. Darren swims over to him and grabs Chris’s hand and - to Chris’s absolute surprise - presses it to his chest, just below his heart. Chris stops floating and has to kick his feet to keep himself balanced and get upright. 

Darren drags Chris’s fingers back and forth. Chris feels the prickle but isn’t really registering anything besides the fact that he’s touching Darren Criss’s chest. “Oh,” Chris says, dumbly. “Okay.” 

Darren laughs, and Chris feels that, too - then Darren’s reaching out and touching Chris’s chest. “You’ve got like, the tiniest bit of hair.” 

“Yeah, and it only came in last year,” Chris says. (Darren laughs, but it really isn’t a joke. Chris is just glad puberty eventually did hit.)

“It’s sexy,” Darren says, his voice dropping a little deeper. He swims a little closer and they wade like that, hands touching each other and eyes locked, until Chris starts to feel a little light headed. 

* 

They leave the wide patio doors open and eat lunch to a soundtrack of the waves crashing against the sand. 

“We should have bought surf boards,” Darren says, looking out. “I could have taught you how.”

“How do you know I don’t already know how?” Chris asks. “I am from California, you know.” 

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry. I just assumed - shit. Well, maybe you could have given me some pointers then?” Darren says, looking so distressed over having accidentally offended Chris that Chris has to laugh. 

“Probably not a good idea, since I actually don’t know how to surf.” He pops a grape into his mouth and grins. 

Darren reaches out and shoves at his arm. “Asshole.” 

* 

Bellies full and bodies (Chris’s, at least) still sore from hours spent swimming, they drag beach towels out to the sand and stretch out. 

The towels are close together and Chris lays on his stomach, arms crossed under his head. “I need to set an alarm for five minutes. Any longer than that and I’ll turn crispy.” 

Darren turns onto his side and looks at Chris. “Is this the best time to whip out the let me put sunscreen on you line?” 

Chris turns his face away and groans. “Did you really just.” 

“I really did just. But I’m also serious…” Darren leans up and fishes around in the beach bag they piled their stuff into. He finds the tube of sunscreen and holds it up triumphantly. “So?” 

“Um. Okay?” Chris looks over at Darren and tries not to feel too overwhelmed. It’s hard - harder when Darren straddles him, weight solidly on Chris’s ass. 

The sunscreen is cold on his skin but Darren’s hands warm it up quickly. Darren starts low, at the small of his back, and massages it in with firm passes of his thumbs. Chris grasps a little - it really is is a massage, and it feels amazing. Darren works at little knots and spots of tense muscle that he finds, stopping and reapplying more lotion every few minutes. Chris hopes his voice isn’t as breathless sounding as he thinks it is when he says, “You… um. You’re very thorough.” 

“I try.” Darren laughs and stretches out in a way that brings him closer. Chris holds his breath when he feels the warm press of lips against his shoulder. “Helps that I like touching you.” 

“Oh my god,” Chris whines. Darren straddling him and rubbing him down with lotion probably ranks as one of Chris’ fantasies. Having him actually do it for him now, well, Chris is just glad he isn’t frotting into his blanket in the sand. 

“What? I think you’d like that,” Chris can hear Darren say behind him, Darren’s lips now lightly trailing over the back of his neck. Chris has been around Darren long enough to know that he can hear the smirk in his voice and if Chris wasn’t concerned about poking out any eyes right now, he’d turn around and smack Darren for that. 

“You should go and sit on your blanket and think about what you’ve done,” Chris snaps back, trying to glare at Darren when he pulls away to flop onto the sand next to him but knowing that his glare isn’t anywhere near vicious enough. 

“Oh trust me, I’ll think about what I’ve done alright,” Darren assures him, having the audacity to wink back at him. 

Chris groans and drops his head back down onto the blanket, ignoring Darren’s delighted laughter. “I hate you,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the blanket. 

“Nah,” Darren disagrees. “Truthfully? I think you kinda like me. At least, I’m hoping this attempt at wooing you makes me seem charming enough for you to like me.” Chris picks his head back up and surveys Darren. His eyes go from the top of his overly curly-ed head to the tips of his toes and Chris tries to look critical. 

“Charming may be a bit much,” Chris admits with a sad sigh. Darren whines and Chris relents, unable to keep himself from breaking into a teasing smile. “Maybe frustratingly persistent with a side of cock tease,” he adds, blushing bright on his cheeks. He doesn’t usually flirt like this, not this overtly but Darren’s openness about his own attraction makes it easier for Chris to respond. He still looks away when Darren shoots him an excited grin and bounces on his towel. 

“Yeah, now give me five minutes and then I’ll return your frustratingly persistent teasing back at you,” Chris grumbles back, forcing his mind and his body to calm back down. Darren stares at Chris for a moment before breaking into a barking laugh, clearly pleased with himself. 

* 

After another hour of soaking in the sun and being lazy, Darren suggests a walk. 

“Ditch the shoes,” he orders, wiggling his own toes in the sand.

“Yes, sir.” Chris salutes him and kicks off the sandals he’d been wearing, leaving them beside the blanket. 

The weather is still nice, but later afternoon is settling in with less heat than midday offered. Chris is glad he put a t-shirt back on after the sunbathing. Darren hadn’t shared his concern, but Chris isn’t about to push him. 

“So. Do I get an update on how I’m doing so far?” Darren glances over at Chris. 

“Why are you so worried?” Chris shoots back. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who has confidence issues.” 

Darren shrugs. “Everyone likes a little feedback.” 

Chris doesn’t answer. Instead, he changes the subject. “What time does the chariot turn back into a pumpkin?” 

Darren kicks a little bit of sand and shrugs before he responds. When he does, he makes sure he’s looking at Chris as he speaks. “It doesn’t have to. My buddy said I could use the place until tomorrow morning.” 

Chris’s mouth goes dry. “Oh,” he says. 

“But no pressure,” Darren adds. “You say the word and we’ll head back to LA. This isn’t a booty call or anything. I’m just… giving you options.” 

“I think…” Chris looks over at Darren, the slope of his nose and the angle of his jaw in profile. “I think we’ll have to leave early enough tomorrow to make sure I have time to pack before checkout.” 

Darren reaches out and snags his hand. The satisfied smile is obvious in his voice when he says, “I think we can manage that.” 

They don’t turn around right away. They keep walking as the sun lowers in the sky, hands loosely clasped between them. Chris is glad for the reprieve and the chance to ramp himself up a little. 

“Hey,” Darren says, stopping. He leads Chris over to a large, flat rock and sits, patting the space beside him. “C’mere.” 

“Okay. What are-” Chris is stunned into silence by the view, the sun setting over the ocean in a glorious splash of colors above. “Oh, wow.” 

“I know, right?” Darren sighs. He lays back against the rock and tugs Chris’s arm until Chris lays against him, Darren’s arm under his neck. The rock is warm underneath him but Darren’s warmer beside him. “Every time I think of living somewhere besides California, I see something like this, and it’s just like… man. No. This is my place. I’m here for this.” 

“It is amazing,” Chris says, agreeing.

They don’t talk until the sun is mostly set. Darren looks over at him. “So-” 

“Are you going to ask me how you’re doing again?” Chris interrupts, teasing him. “You’re starting to sound a little needy.” 

“Hey, now.” Darren frowns playfully. He turns onto his side and props himself up, so he can look down at Chris. “And here I was just going to ask if I could kiss you yet.” 

“Oh.” Chris smiles, tilting his head back a little and just ever so slightly to the side. His eyes fall to Darren’s lips. “Yeah, I guess you can.” 

It’s a good first kiss. There’s a little moment of strangeness while they figure out the tight tilt and angle but they don’t really need too much time to adjust to each other, hitting it off just right with the same amount of pressure and the perfect sense of timing with the back and forth of suction and tongue. 

As far as first kisses go… Chris isn’t going to complain. He’s so far from it, he’s more convinced that it isn’t real and this is all some elaborate fantasy he’s caught in. 

Darren’s hand comes up to cup Chris’ cheek and Chris leans into it, letting Darren take the lead and direct where to go. He goes where Darren says, leaning in when Darren tugs him closer until they bump noses. 

“Oh, hello,” Darren mumbles, grinning at him. 

“Hello,” Chris says back quietly. Chris tries to look back but Darren is too close, making him go cross-eyed every time he tries to get a good look at Darren. 

“Didn’t mean to do that,” murmurs Darren. He’s tilting his head again and nips at Chris’ lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth to pull it out a bit more. “Wanted to…” He starts to say but trails off as Darren’s mouth latches onto Chris’ lower lip and begins to suck on it. Chris moans, his own hands, shaking, reach out and grab Darren by the waist and pull him in as Darren’s teeth now begin to nibble on his bottom lip before his tongue soothes over it. 

“Fuck--” exhales Chris when Darren finally pulls away. His lips are kiss-bruised and his cheeks are flushed from exertion and Darren’s pupils are blown wide, leaving only a thin circle of gold in the irises. “That was…” 

“--fucking amazing,” Darren finishes for him. “We should…” 

“... go back?” Chris offers and Darren nods eagerly. 

“Yeah.” Darren’s voice croaks and he has to clear it a few times before looking sheepishly over at Chris. He offers his hand and Chris takes it, both of them walking much closer back to the house. 

* 

Chris gives the briefest thoughts to whoever might actually own this house and who might normally sleep in this bed he’s being lowered down onto. He wonders if it’s a family or a couple or if this is actually just some quaint little sex hut on the beach that someone uses for erotic rendezvous on the regular. 

He wonders if Darren has ever brought anyone here, and the thought would bother him if not for Darren’s mouth on his neck and then his brain is shorting out and it’s really impossible to wonder anything at all. 

Darren has the nicest hands. They’re not the biggest Chris has ever felt on his body, but the fingertips are roughened (flashes of memory - watching Darren strum the guitar, sing his heart and soul into a microphone, drenched and hair stuck in ringlets to his forehead) in a way that tickles on Chris’s skin and he touches with both generosity and greed. Darren touches Chris like he can’t get enough, like the sex happens with his hands as much as his mouth and his dick. 

Naked, sweating and grinding, Darren is both nothing and everything like Chris’s fantasies. 

He’s gorgeous, and so fucking hot, but it’s also sex and it’s real. It’s a little awkward and a little exhilarating and nerve-wracking and his lips are numb halfway through but he doesn’t ever want to stop kissing Darren and Darren’s cock is just gorgeous, jutting and eager and purple-red and leaking everywhere. 

It’s Chris that pushes Darren back onto the bed finally, Chris that kneels between his legs and gets his mouth on it. In the moment, previous firsts all pale in comparison to the memory he’s currently making. He loses track of time and lets everything go except the ache in his jaw and the grunts and groans filling his ears, until Darren’s jerking against his tongue. He pulls back just in time to watch it spill, almost golden in the low lamp light of the room. 

He’s so hard it almost hurts when Darren topples him over and pins him down, one thick thigh between Chris’s legs and those perfect searching fingers finding him and jerking him hard and fast. Chris flattens his palms against Darren’s shoulders and cries out, edging in on too-fast and too-sharp of an orgasm but the lack of control makes him feel wild and like he’s crawling out of his own skin. It wrecks him when it comes, his body curling in on itself and his throat raw from the sounds he can’t stop making. 

He feels like he’s shaking apart but then Darren’s arms are there, solid and surrounding him, and Darren’s mouth is back on his, and Chris almost doesn’t care how desperately he kisses back. 

* 

Chris wakes first, sore and smiling before he’s aware enough to even realize why. Darren snores, but somehow that hasn’t even gotten in the way of the best night of sleep Chris has had in a long time. 

He turns his head to look at Darren. His first inclination upon waking on any day is to go find his phone and then his laptop. Today all he wants to do is stay exactly where he’s at. 

But he can’t. All good things must come to an end, and his family expects him home by dinner. He rolls onto his side and whispers, “Darren.” 

It takes a couple more whispers and a gentle shove before Darren grunts, squeezes his eyes shut, then finally pops them open. He blinks a couple of times at Chris and then his face relaxes into a smile. “Hey there.” 

Chris smiles back. “I slept. Wow.”

“Do you usually not?” Darren’s voice is scratchy until he clears it. 

“Eh.” Chris shrugs. “Not usually for that long, or that well.” 

“Well, I have been told that sex with me is magical.” Darren reaches out and runs his fingertips up Chris’s arm playfully. 

“Wait, have you actually been told that sex with you put someone to sleep before? Because I hate to break it to you, but that might not be a compliment,” Chris shoots right back. 

Darren laughs. “God, you’re funny. You’re so…” 

“So, what?” Chris leans in a little closer, wanting more of that touch. Affection isn’t something he ever consciously thinks about wanting more of but right now he’d give anything for Darren to just never stop what he’s doing. 

“Amazing? Hilarious? Fascinating?” Darren shrugs. “Take your pick. Or I could go on. Gorgeous…” 

“Shut up.” Chris blushes, turning his face against the pillow. 

“Hey, now. No hiding.” Darren’s hand travels up to cup the back of Chris’s neck and play with his hair. “I don’t have too many more hours left with that face. I want to look at it all I can.” 

“Yeah…” Chris sighs, opening his eyes again. “We should leave soon.” 

“Soon,” Darren promises, but his actions are contradictory as he moves in for a kiss. 

* 

An hour later, they’re on the road back to Los Angeles. Chris wants a chance to shower and change his clothes before he has to check out of the hotel and get on the road, and Darren has a lunch meeting he can’t be late for. 

“Wish I could come up with you,” Darren says. They’re parked in the half-circle entrance to the hotel, a few cars back from the door. “A car is a shitty place to get a little goodbye nookie.”

Chris laughs. “I like how you just _assume_...” 

Darren half-turns in his seat and looks at Chris. “Seriously, though. Worth the twenty bucks?” 

Chris laughs. “Are you fishing?” 

“it’s what I do, man.” Darren grins. “Ego comes with the territory.” 

“Seriously,” Chris says, mimicking the way Darren’s just said it. “I think you knocked it out of the park on the whole first date thing. Yesterday was… amazing. Thank you.” 

“Thank _you_ ,” Darren says, with quiet sincerity. “I wish we had time for a second.” 

And there it is - the thing they haven’t mentioned all morning. Chris sighs. “Yeah. Me, too.” 

“Well, look-” Darren grabs his hand. “You’ve got my number. I’ve got yours. I can’t make any promises, but we can just… talk, for now. And you never know...” 

“I’d like that,” Chris says, smiling. It’s not as much as he’d like but it’s really the most he can hope for.

 

**Chicago, Two Weeks Later**

“-yeah, busted water pipe,” Chris says to Ashley, bluetooth headset hooked on and phone in his pocket as he strolls through the open doorway of the building he works in with a sense of lightness and elation that only comes with an afternoon unexpectedly freed of obligations. “So, dinner?” 

“Some of us working schlubs don’t get early release - in fact, I’ll probably be working late. Sorry, boo. But I’ll give you a call if something changes?” Ashley says. “We need a catch up session anyway. That slick little LA vacay went to your head, you’ve been in the clouds since.” 

Chris can’t really argue that. Maybe his head hasn’t been so much in the clouds as just… caught halfway to another life altogether.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up. At brunch Saturday, if not tonight?” Chris suggests. 

“And you’ll finally give me the whole story? I know you’re holding out, Colfer,” Ashley threatens. 

Chris is glad no one is around to see his smug little smile. “I’ve told you everything about the prize day.” 

He just hasn’t told her anything about the day after that, and he doesn’t plan on it. He still isn’t sure what to make of it himself. It would be so easy to write it off as a spectacular surreal moment of his life that came and went, except… 

Except that since he’s been back in Chicago he talks to Darren almost every day. Random odd texts at all hours, photos that sometimes have explanations and sometimes don’t, phone calls once or twice when they happen to realize they were both available for it. 

“Right.” She doesn’t sound like she’s buying it. She’s always had the gift of seeing through his bullshit, which probably means it’s a good thing he didn’t end up going into acting after all. “I gotta go, bossman’s back from lunch in a few and these sets don’t design themselves.” 

“Call me,” Chris reminds her, and then hangs up. He looks around and spots one of his favorite coffee shops just down the block from him. 

His laptop is tucked away in his bag and he’s had words pouring out of his mind since his trip ended. 

* 

When his phone rings an hour later, he assumes it’ll be Ashley or his mother, and his mother’s at work. They’re the only people that really call him without giving him a heads up first. Even Roberto sends a warning text.

He hits the button on his headset to accept the call without glancing at the display. “Change your mind on dinner?” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize we had plans,” Darren says, voice full of amusement. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry- hi!” Chris immediately goes a little pink in the cheeks and smiles embarrassingly wide. He can’t help it. This is just what Darren does to him - and really always has. “I thought you were someone else.” 

“Oh.” Darren’s voice goes a little careful. “A… friend?” 

Even the vague hint that Darren might be jealous makes Chris bite down on his lip to stop a giddy laugh. “A female friend.” 

“Oh, well then.” Darren’s tone lightens again immediately. “And she blew you off for dinner?” 

“Actually, we didn’t have plans. My office shut down to fix some kind of plumbing issue and I was trying to convince her to play hookie with me,” Chris explains. “What about you? No filming today?”

“Brief reprieve from the rigors of television life, yeah. In fact… I’m not due back on set until next Monday. So I was thinking…” 

“A dangerous pastime,” Chris murmurs. 

Darren pauses to laugh, admiration all over his face. “I know. But, I was thinking - if you’re free - my college buddies have been bugging me to come visit for a while anyway…” 

“So you’re - you’re going to be in Chicago?” Chris asks. 

“Uh. Actually. I could use a ride from the airport?” 

“When?” Chris says. In front of him, his computer screen dims from the lack of use in the last few minutes. 

“... now?” Darren says, sheepishly. “Kinda bought the plane ticket on impulse. I didn’t check a bag, so I’m just kicking it.” 

“I can be there in an hour,” Chris says, shutting the laptop. 

*

Darren has a beanie jammed over his curls and he’s wearing a plain black hoodie and jeans, with sunglasses. Chris almost doesn’t spot him, but Darren comes jogging toward him with that unmistakable smile beaming. 

Chris is never one to go in for a hug first, but Darren doesn’t give him much choice in the matter.

It’s not too long, or too close, but it’s nice. When he pulls back, Darren hitches his bag over his shoulder a little more. “Let’s get out of here. 

They make it to the parking garage. “This is me,” Chris says, gesturing to his ‘08 Camry. “Not exactly a Tesla, sorry.” 

“It’s perfect.” Darren grins and drops his bag. “Now come here.” 

Then Chris is being kissed within an inch of his life, deep and hard and needy. Darren doesn’t let go when the kiss breaks. He keeps his arms tight around Chris. This part of the garage is empty so they stay like that, Darren swaying them slightly together. 

“I can’t believe you just got on a plane,” Chris says, turning his face against Darren’s neck. “Your friends are going to be so happy to see you.” 

“Yeah.” Darren pulls back and just - he _stares_ at Chris. “I lied.” 

“What?” Chris asks, confused. 

“I totally just came to see you. I mean, I’d love it if you wanted to meet my friends and hang, but - I can’t stop thinking about you.” Darren’s still smiling but it’s a little tighter now, a little more nervous. “I just want to spend the next few days with you.”

Chris feels breathless all of a sudden, and his heart pounds. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either. Los Angeles feels like it was a dream, but I can’t get it out of my head.” 

“So this is okay? That I came?” Darren asks. 

“More than okay,” Chris says, a burst of laughter on the heels of his words. 

“Good.” Darren cups his face and kisses him again. “Then take me home. It’s your turn to show me your world.”


End file.
